The Angels Shall Weep
by Salkiethia
Summary: Prideship written for the Pharaoh's Palace Summer Song contest.


The Angels Shall Weep

Inspired by Jewel's _Adrian_

_Adrian came home again last summer...  
Things just haven'y been the same 'round here..._

* * *

When Moutu Solomon answered the door, he didn't know what he expected, but a dripping wet fourteen-year-old was not one of them. Funny thing was... It hadn't been raining.

"Come quick!" A high pitched voice, a black-haired teen with slate eyes and anguish in his words. "Please!"

--

"_Don't swing the rod like that – you'll tip the canoe." _

"_Since when are you an expert on canoe tipping?"_

_The boat rocked dangerously._

"_Since now. Now stop waving it."_

"_Oh, all right."_

_Brief silence._

"_I'll never leave you."_

"_I never doubted it."_

_--_

He moved like he was in a nightmare. Time moved so slowly, even as the rushing fear welled up, threatening to choke him. He followed Mokuba, racing along in the teen's wake, lungs burning, heart on the verge of tears. How else to respond to a little boy crying "Nii-sama, Nii-sama," so brokenly?

--

_Yami pillowed his head on Kaiba's chest. The brunet was sprawled out carelessly in the bottom of the canoe. It rocked slightly when Yami shifted so he could look up._

_Brilliant blue eyes glowed as Kaiba met his gaze. A gentle smile – such a rare thing – passed over the brunet's face._

_It felt too perfect for words. Yami sighed contentedly and let his eyes drift closed. He felt Kaiba's breathing, and heard the heartbeat that so closely mirrored his own._

_Just perfect._

--

The lake was too far away. He knew he couldn't make it on foot. Neither of them could. It would have been impossible for a younger man. It was impossible for the both of them.

Solomon stopped, holding his side, eyes full of pity when Mokuba turned, furious tears filling his eyes. The teen yelled that they could still make it, that maybe _he_ didn't care enough to keep his old legs running. Solomon tried to be compassionate.

Mokuba wouldn't have it. He ran off.

--

"_You're smiling."_

"_And?"_

"_You never smile."_

"_I always smile. You don't pay attention."_

"_A smirk isn't a smile."_

_Contemplative silence. _

"_Neither is a bloodthirsty grin."_

"_I'm smiling now."_

"_And?"_

"_You can't say I never smile."_

_--_

He half-limped, half-shuffled slowly back to the Game Shop and fished out the keys to his old car. Maybe if he'd been thinking, he and Mokuba could have set off in that before instead of running helter-skelter into nowhere.

Although, he had to admit, if even to himself, the time it took to get to the lake from the Game Shop – from anywhere in the city, really – left no margin for error.

He passed a fourteen-year-old running in a panicked manner down the sidewalk and pulled over.

"Mokuba, get in."

Slate eyes glared accusingly at him, but the black-haired boy obeyed. "Drive."

--

_It was nice, Kaiba decided, having someone close enough to touch. Someone who wouldn't take it amiss if he decided to let a grin slip through. A real grin of pure enjoyment and not a failed smirk rip-off. To think it was his rival who let him feel that freedom…_

_Kaiba let a hand drift across Yami's forehead, smoothing back the twisted strands of hair gently. The other's mouth twisted into a gentle smile. But his eyes stayed shut. Kaiba liked that. How many people would leave their eyes shut around him? Trust him._

_He ran his hand over Yami's forehead again, just for the soft thrill of it. Yami sighed contentedly._

_--_

Mokuba was silent, but intense, staring out the window with a dark look that should have shattered the glass. Solomon was vaguely surprised it didn't. Worry hadn't evaporated from the teen's eyes. Instead, it had grown more saturated, bogging down the pure slate with furious terror.

White knuckled hands gripped the seat, and he was leaning forward as if the extra inch would get him to the lake sooner.

Solomon sighed as he passed a speed limit sign and pressed his foot more heavily on the gas. At least the traffic on Saturday morning's wasn't that heavy in the summer.

--

"_Tell me something."_

"_What?"_

"_Anything. Talk about yourself. I want to hear."_

"_There's nothing interesting about me."_

"_I beg to differ."_

"_Then tell me what's so interesting."_

"_Your eyes."_

"_My eyes?"_

"_Yes. Your eyes."_

"_Why?"_

"_Haven't you heard eyes are the windows to the soul?"_

_A nod._

"_I can see into your soul. I like what I see."_

_Gentle breathing._

"_What about you?"_

"_What about me?"_

"_What do you think is interesting about me?"_

"_Who says I think there's something interesting about you?"_

"_Then why spend so much time with me?"_

"_Your eyes."_

"_Nice try. Pick something different."_

"_Your voice."_

"_What about it?"_

"_You never shut up."_

"_I beg to differ."_

"_I guess I'll have to make you be quiet."_

_Soft lips._

--

He put the car in park and the two of them stumbled out. Or, rather, he stumbled out. Mokuba had dragged the door open before Solomon had even stopped the car. The teen was running, sprinting full speed towards the lake, hidden amongst trees.

Solomon limped after as quickly as he could make his old legs move.

He dreaded what he would find.

--

_Kaiba was still on his back, and Yami was still laying on him, but this time his face wasn't looking up, and his head wasn't on Kaiba's chest. The brunet's long arms had encircled his waist, holding him while they explored each other's mouths._

_Yami made sure he took his time. He had all the time in the world to map out Kaiba; to touch him, taste him, need him. All the time in the world, and still not enough._

_He pulled back long enough to breathe and smile at the brunet. Then once again Yami joined their mouths, and began rewriting the roadmap he'd just established._

--

The hospital admitted them at once. Riding in the back of an ambulance had its perks. Mokuba still looked incredibly distressed. One of the emergency personnel had restrained the teen. Now Mokuba sat, staring with huge slate eyes at the twin stretchers.

Solomon, too, sat and stared, while holding a mask to his face to get his oxygen levels back up to normal. The short sprint had depleted him more than he cared to admit.

The hospital room was devoid of color – a solid, bleached white to match the white of the emergency personnel's robes, the white of the stretcher's mattress, the white of the blankets obscuring their vision.

White – where all colors came from.

White – what happened when all colors blended.

--

"_I've never been to America."_

"_It's not worth the trip."_

"_But it's something new."_

"_They sell souvenirs made in Japan."_

"_Why would they do that?"_

"_Because they are unoriginal and boring. It's not worth the trip."_

"_Would you take me if I asked you to?"_

"_To America? I suppose. I don't know why you'd want to go, though."_

"_Just to be with you."_

"_You're being sappy."_

"_Funny. I don't feel like a tree."_

_--_

"Please, I'm going to have to ask you two to leave, now." The nurse was in white too, bleached out like the walls.

Mokuba stood to protest. Solomon caught him around the waist. "We've done all we can," he whispered. "Let them do their jobs now. It's out of your hands."

Mokuba didn't look ready to accept that. Solomon tugged on him. "Let's go."

"Nii-sama!"

"Please, sirs, I need you to leave."

Mokuba fought.

Solomon attempted to subdue him.

Eventually, emergency personnel carried another body out on a stretcher. Solomon watched. Drugging the teen had been an inspired solution.

He hated it.

--

_Kaiba let a smirk settle across his face. So Yami wanted to go with him to America, did he? Well…he'd just have to make sure to pick the least interesting weekend he was going and invite the other along for the ride. At the very least, it would prove amusing._

_Yami was poking the fishing poles again. They'd run out of bait, but they hadn't really come here to catch anything. Kaiba leaned over and picked up his own pole, carefully detangling the gently twisted line. He cast out and resumed his former fishing position. Yami copied him, but instead of sitting on the far end of the canoe, he chose a spot much nearer Kaiba._

_It felt nice._

_Yami cast his line._

_Kaiba closed his eyes._

_--_

Waiting was the most painful part. Midnight came and passed. Morning came and blurred into the afternoon. Hundreds of patients must have walked in and out of those two white doors, cured of all ills, but not the face Solomon truly wished to see.

Mokuba had vanished entirely. Emergency personnel claimed he was being watched. Solomon didn't argue. Who would wait for them if he was gone and Mokuba as well?

He kept his silent vigil through to the midnight hour again, only to rise in the afternoon with a hand shaking his shoulder.

"They're releasing Kaiba Seto," the nurse in white told him. Whether it was the same nurse in white as before, he couldn't say. They were all nurses. They all wore white. Little carbon copies of one another, paraded around for the general public's benefit.

He contented himself with a nod. He hadn't come to wait for Kaiba.

The nurse in white didn't seem to understand that. She vanished without another word.

--

"_He had to adopt us after that."_

"_I don't think I would have opted for chess."_

"_Why not?"_

"_I'd pick something I could win at."_

"_Like what?"_

"_Well, a computer beat me at chess once, but it was no match for me at kickboxing…"_

"_You know kickboxing?"_

"_I learned for self defense."_

_Incredulity._

"_Care to try me?"_

"_One should take care around you. It's not wise to believe everything one hears…or anything you say."_

"_I'm heartbroken."_

"_You do a poor imitation of it."_

"_Then let me imitate something else."_

_--_

"Sir, are you Moutu Solomon?" The nurse was back, bringing her white smile and white hat and white whiteness with her.

Solomon nodded.

A man in pale green appeared next to the nurse, then. He gave Solomon a pitying look.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" His voice cracked. "What do you mean?"

"There's not much I can do."

Solomon stood. "Isn't there anyone that can do something?" he demanded.

The doctor nodded slightly. "There's another hospital out in Tokyo that could help him, I think."

He stared the doctor in the eye. "Will he ever get better?"

--

_They were both laughing. Yami couldn't even remember what the joke had been. Or even if there had been a joke. His sides hurt, and tears were streaming down Kaiba's face. Sheer mirth overcame years of training. _

_He inched over to the brunet, the boat still rocking violently with the force of their combined laughter. He latched onto Kaiba and tumbled the both of them out of the canoe into the lake._

_Seconds later, they surfaced. The brunet was glaring with all the force behind his blue eyes, but it didn't hold. Yami splashed him. Kaiba splashed back._

--

He thought he held all the answers, only to discover more waiting was involved. He waited. First it was a few hours to get the notice about the transfer. Then it was a few days to make sure everything was going well. A few days stretched into a few weeks for treatment. _That_ stretched into a month, into six months, into well past a year.

Past a year, and he was still waiting for that familiar face. Over a year in which he hadn't heard a special voice. Too long… Much too long.

The phone rang.

"He's coming home."

--

"_Help me tip the canoe back upright."_

"_You're the one that tipped it over."_

"_I can't do it by myself! I'm tiny, remember?"_

"_Well I can barely float in this."_

"_We can turn the canoe over and drag it to shore."_

"_I'm still sinking."_

"_Kick your shoes off. Put them in here."_

"_You sound like you've gone canoe tipping before."_

"_I'd never been in a canoe until today."_

_Brief splashing. _

"_Okay, on three push. One, two –"_

"_Three."_

--

The flowers had bloomed earlier that month. A bit wilted perhaps, but their yellow tint seemed to illuminate the bedroom that had lain unused for so long. Mokuba had come over to help with the decorating. A big banner declared "Welcome Home" in the fifteen-year-old's wobbly script.

They hung it outside, above the door frame.

Then Solomon retreated within the four walls again, taking up his vigil beside the telephone. Waiting to know when he really was back.

--

_Kaiba towed the front of the canoe. He and Yami had pulled off their shoes, shirts and pants to make it easier to stay afloat. Swimming in just boxers felt weird, but not nearly as odd as swimming in shoes and real clothes had felt._

_Their stuff was submerged in the bottom of the canoe. It was wet already, or he might have protested. Taking the canoe to shore didn't take too long. They dragged it out together, and fished out their belongings before turning it to drain all the lake water out._

_It was a beautiful day. Yami flopped down onto the ground, and to all appearances, fell asleep. After a moment of watching him, Kaiba did the same, leaving their saturated clothing spread out across the puddles of sunlight. Hopefully it would dry soon._

--

"He's back? When can I pick him up?" Solomon nodded, muttered a thank you and hung up.

He was back. He could pick him up in a few hours.

After a year of waiting – over a year of waiting – even two minutes more felt like much too long.

--

"_Let's go out again."_

"_So you can tip the boat over again?"_

"_Don't pretend you didn't like it."_

"_I'm not pretending."_

"_You are too."_

"_Prove it."_

"_You're smiling. Only happy people smile. You must have liked it."_

"_I'm smirking."_

"_No, you're smiling. You want me to tip you again."_

"_All right, fine. Let's go."_

_Pure excitement._

_--_

Solomon stared. He couldn't help it.

"We'll bring him to your house," the nurse said quietly. "It's a lot of equipment to transport, I know."

Unbidden, tears leaked from his eyes.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was supposed to be happy. A reunion.

"Sir, if you'll give us your address, we'll deliver him there as soon as we can."

Deliver. Like a package of mail. Wordless, Solomon scribbled down the address to the Kame Game Shop and bit back further tears. At least he was here. That was the important thing, wasn't it?

--

_The boat was rocking again. Yami was standing – canoe taboo – with his arms wide for balance while Kaiba swam around in the water, poking the vessel at odd intervals._

_The game was Stay Standing As Long As You Can. Yami had already tumbled Kaiba a dozen or so times. The predator had become the prey now. Kaiba pushed one end of the canoe, and Yami wobbled. After a moment, he stabilized. Balance held._

_The brunet swam under the boat. Yami braced himself._

_--_

Everything had to be moved out of the room. Old toys, games, books – even the bed was taken out and replaced with a hospital stretcher. Big, ugly steel contraptions with buttons and knobs all over the place took up half the airspace. In the middle of the city of machinery, he was lying in the bed, staring dully at the ceiling.

Solomon waited until the nurses were all gone, and the emergency personnel had vanished into whatever hell they came from. Only then did he let himself cry, as he went over to the stretcher.

Eyes stared at him, past him.

"Welcome home."

It sounded depressing, even to his own ears.

Not that it mattered.

He got no reply.

--

"_Can't you shove it any harder than that?"_

"_I only want you to fall, not the canoe to capsize again."_

"_It won't tip. I won't either."_

"_Big words from a little man."_

"_And this coming from the one I tipped in one push?"_

_Low growl._

"_Shove it harder. I bet I still won't fall."_

_--_

The doorbell rang. Obnoxious buzzing filled his ears.

Couldn't he suffer alone in his grief?

Still the bell rang. Solomon shuffled down the stairs to open the door.

"Where is he?" Tall and imposing.

"Upstairs."

The brunet brushed by him and vanished. Solomon trailed after, shaking his head to himself.

--

_Kaiba pushed the bow firmly. Yami tottered, but still didn't fall. The taunting look on his face convinced Kaiba to try something else. He swam under the canoe and came up, pushing one side over._

_The boat tipped. Rotated. Came up. Yami wasn't in it anymore._

_But…Yami wasn't on the surface, either._

_Kaiba dove. Bright, pale skin showed up in the dark water. Yami's body was sinking. He went after it, letting his lungs exhaust their supply of oxygen in his descent. He caught at Yami, and pulled._

_His air was gone. Little black spots dotted before his eyes. Somehow, he was certain, he was able to push Yami to the surface. But he wasn't breaking out into open air any time soon._

_Water flooded his lungs. The black intensified. Pale skin was above him, drifting downward, yet again._

--

"I'll never leave you. I'll never leave you."

Solomon caught the soft words while he hung outside the door to the bedroom. He wasn't sure how long he listened. Eventually the words became meaningless, just empty syllables, echoing over and over and over.

"It's no use."

The gentle mantra didn't let up. If anything, it became more desperate. "I'll never leave you. I'll never leave you. I'll never –"

"The angels are waiting for him. Don't make the angels weep."

_I'll never leave you. I'll never leave. Never leave. Never, never, never._

_--_

_Adrian came home again last summer…._

_Things just haven't been the same 'round here…_


End file.
